Sunday, 9 October 2011

He wasn’t on my list

Single ladies, do you have a mental check list?

I’ve just marked the 11th anniversary of my first date with my husband and started thinking about when I was single. Then I remembered my checklist.

I used to have a mental checklist for Mr Right. Not mental as in mad, although I think I was slightly mad. Mental as in I knew it well, but never wrote it down. I kept it to myself, hidden away in my brain, to be used against every man I met.

After splitting from my first long-term boyfriend, I went through that awful phase where every male friend is a potential date. Surely we’ve all done it? You get on with someone really well and you’re so desperate to live happily ever after that you start convincing yourself they’re the perfect man.

I did this with a few people, much to the amusement of my friends, as I dated a random collection of oddballs either cos they knew someone I knew, or worse still, because I liked their family. I blame my sister and loved-up friends for most of this phase as they were usually the ‘ugly friend’ on the double date – yep we’ve all been left with one of those. Well I’d not only be left with them, but I’d convince myself to date them again SOBER and find myself having afternoon tea with the whole family before I knew it.

So after some failed and pretty horrific dates I came up with my mental checklist and started sifting.

The list was made up of qualities that were really important to my 20 something self and my circle of friends. How he should look, what he’d wear, what he’d listen to, his family, his friends, the sports he’d play, the teams he’d support, the kind of night out he liked. It was all about fitting in.

Then I met my future husband. He didn’t meet the requirements but I couldn't resist him. He wasn’t a checklist match but I didn’t care..........checklist? what checklist?

I didn’t care what anyone else thought. And that’s when you know you’re really in love.

My advice would be, dump the mental checklist. It’s either based on what your friends would find acceptable or like mine, was simply based on the last man who made you happy. We’re worth more than that.